


On the Way Back Home

by skeeterses



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, s02e10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeeterses/pseuds/skeeterses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post S2E10. Because it's not over just because they found Steve. It's a long way back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Way Back Home

As Steve throws the bolt on the gun back, he feels the thrum of his pulse in his ears, in the open wounds on his wrists—pretty much everywhere, actually.

The chopper takes off, and he watches as the damp, dank forest below drops away. He can’t help the wide smile that comes to his face. Safety, freedom—he’s almost giddy with it. He meets Danny’s eyes, and Chin’s, and Lori’s. He listens to the jokes and jabs at Chin’s upcoming marriage, and tries to bring his body back under control. He hasn’t yet spoken, and he can feel his limbs trembling.

He fights the crash, even though he knows it’s coming. The thrill of being rescued, the pain of the escape to the chopper, and now the come-down. If he’s honest with himself, everything hurts. Head, arms, legs, torso—oh, man, his torso. Even the task of sitting upright was starting to get difficult.

He feels Joe’s hands on his shoulders, Joe’s legs behind him, trying to brace him and make sure he doesn’t keel over. Unfortunately, Steve thinks, that very thing is about to happen.

His heart is pounding, and any minute now, the blackness will start seeping in at the edges of his vision. Apparently Joe can sense what’s going on, because he takes the gun from Steve’s hand as Steve starts trying to find a safe place to put it before he checks out.

He thinks he can hear Joe calling his name, but it’s hard to hear over the sound of the rotor blades—or is that his heart pounding in his ears? He tries to push off from Joe’s legs so he can lie down, and it’s only a moment later before he feels several pairs of hands guiding him down, helping arrange his long limbs on the crowded floor of the chopper.

“Steve? What’s going on, buddy?” he hears Danny ask through the fog in his ears. He manages to focus his eyes long enough to see Chin on one side, reaching forward to lay a hand on his chest, then reach up to feel the pulse at his neck. Danny, on his other side, lays a steadying hand on Steve’s forehead, and reaches to take Steve’s left hand in his, as he’s still trying to get an answer from McGarrett.

He wants to tell Danny to calm down, that he’ll be fine. Wants to tell Chin not to look so worried. Tell Joe that he’s sorry for checking out like this; sorry that he wasn’t stronger.

Instead, all he can do is focus on the hands touching him, and he tells himself that they’ll make sure he makes it back home.

…………………….

“We’re going to have to haul ass to get back to the air field in time,” is the first thing he hears Joe say, as he claws his way back to consciousness.

“Whoa…easy, boss,” Kono says from his side, laying a gentle hand on his chest to keep him still. One of the SEALs is on his other side, digging through a duffel bag.

Steve looks down at himself. He’s laying on some kind of makeshift stretcher that’s on top of a table—a pretty rickety looking table. He’s got an IV in his left arm, and he follows the plastic tubing to find that Kono is actually standing at his side, holding the bag of fluids up.

“Kono?” It’s the first thing he’s said in who knows how long. His voice is scratchy and weak—sounds pretty pathetic, to be honest. “What’s going on?”

“We just landed. We’re about to load up to go back to the air field.”

He looks around as best he can without moving too much, craning his neck in all directions, before catching the barest sight of Joe, Danny and Chin talking off to his right and behind. It’s not very comfortable, is making him dizzy, and he can’t even begin to hear what they’re saying, so he drops back flat and looks at Kono once again.

The SEAL, Ricky, he thinks his name is, drops a stack of bandages and a roll of gauze onto Steve’s stomach, and then reaches to smear a glob of antibiotic ointment on each of his wrists. It looks like the worst of the dirt and caked-on blood have been washed away, and Ricky makes quick work of wrapping the wounds enough to be protected for the remainder of the trip. He then bandages a couple of the worst lacerations and open wounds, smears ointment on the smaller wounds and burns on his torso. And then starts pressing on his abdomen, presumably checking for signs of internal bleeding; judging by the lack of alarm on Ricky’s face, things must not be that bad.

“Steve, we’re getting ready to load you in the truck.” Joe’s voice comes from his side; Steve doesn’t know when he got so close, but he feels Joe’s warm hand laying on his forearm, sees that fatherly look in his eyes again, and simply nods. Steve wants to get up, wants to be armed and ready for whatever may come at them, but most of all wants to go back and find Wo Fat. Since none of those seem like a viable option, he keeps still as they lift the stretcher and carry it over to the back of the truck. The put him in head first, and Danny climbs in to sit just on his left side, picking up the IV bag and hanging it up on one of the bolts of the truck’s side paneling. Someone hands him a blanket, and they work on tucking it around him.

Ricky the SEAL climbs in and speaks softly to Steve, making sure he’s still coherent and not suffering from any severe pain. Yeah, everything hurts, and yeah, he could certainly use some pain meds, but he’s well enough to travel until they can reach a real medical facility. Chin, Kono and Lori pile into the truck, effectively filling up the back.

He feels a hand on his forehead, then running through his hair. It makes him dizzy, but he still quickly looks back to Danny, having to turn his head to the left to actually see him. After a few moments, the truck rumbles to life, and he winces as it starts the trip over rough terrain.

He groans loudly as the truck hits a series of nasty holes in the road, and he moves to turn onto his left side so he can curl his legs up. Both Danny and Ricky immediately reach for him, trying to keep him from bouncing all over the back of the truck. He hates to admit that he gets tangled in both the blanket and the IV line, and Danny bats his hands away when he tries to fix it himself. It’s probably a good thing, to be honest, because he managed to make it worse before Danny took over.

“Relax, Steve,” Danny orders as he gets everything in order again. He lightly grasps Steve’s shoulder, letting his thumb rub circles on Steve’s neck just above his collar. “Just settle down, babe.”

Easier said than done, Steve thinks, but he tries. They hit another rough patch of road, and Steve reaches out blindly to grab onto something. He winds up grasping Danny’s knee, bending forward even more to rest his forehead against Danny’s leg. He feels Danny shift beside him, and then lean over him, speaking softly into his ear.

“Just hang on, babe. We’ll be home soon.” Warm breath gusts over his ear, and that’s what he focuses on. Danny keeps on talking (it’s what he does best), and Steve hangs on, listening to Danny tell him that it was going to be ok, that he’s not alone, that it would only get better from here.

………………….

There’s a brief discussion before everyone agrees that the best plan is to take the flight out of Seoul that they had planned, and hope that Steve wouldn’t take a turn for the worse in mid-air. No signs of internal bleeding or a serious head injury, so they replace the bag of fluids, get him situated in the plane, and high-tail it back to Oahu. Humanitarian workers usually don’t have to leave in such a rush, but Joe makes it damned clear to the pilots that they are leaving now.

He really wants to sit up. But Ricky quickly puts that idea to rest (with Danny backing him up). Because, according to Ricky, they can easily find a c-collar and hard backboard (supplies for the humanitarian missions, and all), as with the trauma he’s sustained, full spinal immobilization and spinal trauma precautions wouldn’t be a bad idea at all. So he can lie down by himself, or be strapped down and unable to move at all. He chooses the former, to which Danny responds by clapping his hands together: “Very sensible, babe. Very sensible.”

Danny takes a seat just next to Steve, reaching over to lay a hand on McGarrett’s chest.

As the wheels lift from the runway, Steve feels a small weight lift from his shoulders, as well. Danny must feel it, too, as he cheerfully pats Steve’s chest a couple of times. On the way back home.

“Rest, babe,” Danny says softly—just loud enough to be heard over the ambient noise of the aircraft, “we’re almost home.” And he moves his hand to rest against Steve’s cheek (carefully, as the bruises are starting to show and swell).

Steve manages to doze on and off during the trip, in between Ricky checking him over and Kono, Chin and Lori smiling warmly at him, grasping his hand or his shoulder or his forearm (Lori hits a particularly nasty bruise on the underside of his forearm, but he manages to suppress a grimace).

But most of the time, it’s just him and Danny. Danny, who keeps up with the touching—his chest, his face, the top of his head—because somehow, Danny knows that scritching his fingers through Steve’s hair at the top of his head is soothing in a way that nothing else can be.

He wants to talk—wants to tell Danny how much he appreciates him coming after him. He knows it couldn’t have been an easy choice, with Grace back at home. Danny had to have weighed the choices in his mind, acknowledged the fact that there was a decent chance that he wouldn’t make it back. But he can’t seem to get the words started. He hasn’t said more than a handful of words since Danny found him in the back of the truck, his face a mixture of surprise and joy—he probably thought they’d finally find a mangled and broken body somewhere in the middle of the jungle.

But then Joe approaches Danny, and Steve focuses on listening in.

“Do we need to call for an ambulance to meet us when we land?” Joe directs the question to Danny, and, well, Steve can’t really blame him. What Steve wants now and what he really needs are probably two very different things.

“Nah,” Danny answers. “I think I can manage to get him to hospital to get checked out.”

Steve is fighting to stay awake again, and the conversation between Danny, Joe and Ricky was continuing over his head, discussing his condition, and the fact that yes, Danny was sure he could handle the wayward SEAL go get him to the hospital.

Not long after the discussion ends, the plane begins its descent. A smooth landing (thank God for small favors), and finally Steve is allowed to sit up. Danny scoots close to his side, and holds him up when the world tilts sickeningly. Things go fuzzy for a minute, because the next thing he knows, he’s dragging his eyes open. Danny’s kneeling before him, hands braced on each side of Steve’s face,

“Steve? Can you hear me?” Danny’s voice is worried, and he’s staring at Steve’s face intently.

“I’m ok,” Steve croaks out. His head is still spinning, and Ricky is checking his pulse and his breathing. But Danny shouldn’t look so worried.

“You sure? Because you kind of checked out on us for a minute there.” Danny rubs his right thumb in circles on Steve’s cheekbone, as Ricky announces that he seems to be ok, probably just shouldn’t have sat up so fast. Steve pushes to sit up straighter, apparently having slumped over when he blacked out. “You ready to walk to the car?” Danny asks, rising to his feet. Steve nods numbly, and Danny takes one side, pulling Steve’s arm over his shoulders, and Ricky takes the other side.

He probably looks like a newborn deer, trying to walk on long legs that won’t quite hold him up, but Ricky and Danny have a firm grip on him, so he makes it to the Camaro in one piece. Danny manhandles him into the passenger seat, reclines the seat for him, and hovers for a moment to make sure he doesn’t roll out of the car onto the tarmac.

His eyes follow Danny around to the front of the car, and then catch sight of the rest of the team standing by the ramp of the plane. They’re all looking at him, apparently still worried about his condition. Danny slides into the driver’s seat and wastes no time in pulling away, and then flicks on the sirens as soon as they reach the road.

Steve’s head is still spinning from behind upright, so he closes his eyes so he can’t see the sights of the city flying by as they speed to the hospital. Danny reaches over and pats his thigh a couple of times.

“You still with me, babe?”

In response, Steve takes Danny’s in his, squeezing softly. His own swollen fingers and the pain make it more difficult than he would have thought, but Danny rearranges their hands to make it a little easier, and intertwines their fingers.

Steve thinks Danny should be shouting by now—about how he shouldn’t have gone to Korea, how he should have been more careful, how his team shouldn’t have had to chase him to another continent to rescue his ass. But there was just silence coming from driver’s seat. Maybe he had to get a clean bill of health before the ranting would start.

……………………..

He informs Danny that he is not staying in the hospital. The doctor has already informed them that even if the CT scans and x-rays come back clear, he’ll want to keep Steve for at least twenty-four hours for observation.

Luckily, Danny seems to understand that Steve is serious, because he assures Dr. Campbell that he’ll take McGarrett home and make him rest, and asks him for an honest-to-God-is-he-going-to-keel-over-if-you-release-him kind of assessment. Reluctantly, but with numerous fresh stitches, an accurate count of broken ribs (six), and a bag full of medications, the doctor releases Steve into Danny’s care.

Still fuzzy from the pain meds he was given in the ER (he slept through most of the ER visit, but he knows that Danny was beside him the whole time), Danny leads him to the car and then back to the house. They struggle through the yard, now with only Danny to support Steve, who’s still having a little trouble walking upright. They both bash into the doorjamb, because the doorway’s not wide enough for both of them walking as they are.

“Sorry, sorry,” Danny soothes, leading Steve to the stairs. “Do you want a quick shower, or just go to bed?” Danny asks as they reach the bedroom.

Steve nearly groans at the sight of his bed—his soft, clean bed that’s merely feet away—and begrudgingly admits that he needs a shower. Between Ricky and the ER, a lot of the dirt and mud had been cleaned off, but he knew that there was still a hell of a lot left to go.

Danny herds him into the master bathroom, and helps him strip the mud and blood-crusted clothes from his body. He’s gentle, murmuring apologies and soothing sounds as he tries to avoid the worst of the wounds. After Steve’s clothing is resting in a pile on the floor, Danny makes quick work of stripping off his own clothes.

“What—” Steve starts to say as Danny gently pushes him into the shower. Danny turns on the water and finds the right temperature.

“I stink almost as bad as you do, McGarrett, so I figure one of those Army showers wouldn’t be a bad idea.” Danny squirts a glob of shampoo into his hands and goes to work at washing the worst of the grime from Steve’s hair.

“Navy, Danno. Navy showers.” Steve closes his eyes and leans his head down a little to give Danny a better angle. The world threatens to spin again, so he has to grab onto Danny’s waist to keep from taking a header into the bath tile.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Danny responds, pulling Steve to stand under the spray of the water, rinsing the suds from his head. “Here,” he says, handing Steve the soap. “Don’t fall over,” he warns, taking the time to wash his own hair.

As they move back and forth to share the water spray, Steve grabs onto Danny’s waist again to steady himself. The suds run down his body with the water, and Danny scrubs at a stubborn glob of mud on Steve’s neck.

“Thanks, Danno,” Steve murmurs, raising his eyes to look at Danny’s face.

“No problem, babe.”

“No…for everything, Danny. Thanks. For coming after me.” Danny’s movements still, and he looks into Steve’s eyes.

“You’re welcome.” Steve isn’t sure exactly what response he’s expecting, but the simple acknowledgement certainly isn’t it.

Danny gets them both rinsed off, turns off the water, and grabs clean towels. He must know how badly Steve’s shoulders and arms hurt, because he takes care of drying Steve’s hair for him. Clean shorts all around, and Danny pulls back the sheets of the bed so Steve can crawl in. It takes Steve a few moments to find a comfortable position, lying on his side, slightly curled up. Danny sits on the edge of the bed beside him, pulling the sheets up and tucking him in.

“Need anything?” Danny asks softly, pushing the damp hair back off of Steve’s forehead.

“Nah…I’m good.” He gives Danny the best smile he can muster (which is knows is probably still pretty pitiful given everything that’s happened). “You can…umm…you can stay in here tonight….if you want,” Steve offers, seeing the droop in Danny’s shoulders and the exhaustion in his eyes.

Danny nods, and climbs into bed, pulling the covers over himself. Steve’s back is to him, but McGarrett can feel him scoot in close.

“Danny…” he starts, but isn’t sure exactly how to continue. He’s been wanting to talk all day, and he has so much he needs to say—about how Danny didn’t leave his side, how he kept touching him, letting him that he wasn’t alone, how just having him beside him was part of what made it all ok.

A soft kiss on his shoulder startles him.

“Just sleep, Steve. We’ll talk in the morning—I promise.” Another kiss on his shoulder, and a warm puff of air as Danny settles close to him. “Everything’s ok…everybody’s ok.”

As he listens to Danny…closes his eyes and settles in for the rest his body so desperately needs…he thinks that he wasn’t reading too much into the touches he’d felt from Danny all day. Maybe this rescue would be the kick in the pants they needed to actually confront this spark between them.

The warm weight of Danny’s arm settles on Steve’s hip, and Steve drifts off. In the morning—they’d talk about it all in the morning.


End file.
